


Preghiera

by Lord_Zelge



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3080168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_Zelge/pseuds/Lord_Zelge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even the briefest of encounters can last a lifetime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preghiera

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of an old fanfiction titled My, Ours: Twisted Story.  
> I really love the head canon that Lovino is a violinist or Feliciano is a musician. Even if this is cliché, I also envision Feliciano as an artist. Either way, I just want to write a fanfiction wherein the brothers are virtuosi.  
> The title is taken from Paganini’s rendition of Preghiera (Prayer) which also served as inspiration for this story. Also, this is human-world AU. There are some religious tones here, so if you do not like it, please leave now. I have warned you.

Expectations always weighed him down. From the moment he was born, his humanity was only put second to his training: **to be a violin virtuoso.** He was from a family that valued excellence in the arts.

His mother was a successful artist recognized not only in Europe but globally. Her gallery openings were always fully-booked and by the end of the night most of her works are already sold. On the other hand, his father was proficient with the violin. He was a man who played in the different courts of Europe and was even invited in the Middle East to perform during some special occasion of a member of the royal family.

His maternal grandfather was all-together a different story. The patriarch was a renowned violin maker. An old man who was strict with Lovino’s training; this was so that the young boy would inherit his masterpiece. He always mumbled that he would not give any of his _children (_ his stringed-instrument creations _)_ to an idiotic son-in-law.

Lovino wondered how was it that his mother was in a different path when his grandfather was a maker of stringed-instruments. Not that his question will be answered; he left his home several years ago and lost contact with his family. Mulling about his past would not feed his stomach; he needed to get his ass of his bed and go to work.

“Work, huh?”

Before living on his own, routine was his life; it was what he breathed. By morning he would go to school and after school, he would have his lessons. On and on, his life was like that. The only change that happens is when he opens his mouth and he begins yelling off at others. The frustration of _stagnation_ egged him day by day and he always took it out to others.

_If only he wouldn’t open his mouth, he would be perfect._

_I agree with you! He is so dreamy when he plays the violin._

Lovino sighed as he remembered how people complimented him, in a very selective manner.  It was quite cruel. Apparently, the girls would drop down when he was only playing the violin. The worst that he heard was being compared to his younger brother. It always pissed him off. They were two different people and people spectacularly failed to recognize that simple fact.

He was happy that he was no longer surrounded by such people. Leaving that dingy place was the best decision he ever made. The newfound freedom was something he wouldn’t relish anytime soon.

Currently he has three jobs: during the weekdays he works for a musical shop and café while in the weekends he works as a bartender.

Neither of his jobs was demanding; it was easy money which could sustain him but sometimes he missed the life of luxury. There were days were he finds himself thinking on buying a new pair of shoes or designer clothes and maybe an accessory to match the outfit. This was just wishful thinking and he was entitled to such even if he won’t buy anything new.

The day ended with nothing happening; sometimes the mundane moments were worse than his previous routinely life. Well, the plus point of his new schedule was that he could play music according to his _mood_. Sometimes he spontaneously composes his own music.

“Whatever.” Lovino murmured quietly. He pedaled back to the flat he was renting. Along the way, he passed by an unmaintained playground. The grass was widely growing but from the short glance he noticed a gazebo and chapel. The entire place was fenced though the railings were rusty and falling apart.

Sometimes the brunet berated himself for observing mundane details.

However that moment decided the young violinist’s fate.

From then on, he frequently visited the area to practice pieces that he committed to memory. The area was not ideal as a practice venue due to the open space; however he didn’t want to practice inside his flat because of his nosy neighbors. The kids would most likely pester him to play music for them once they find out that he can do better than a grade 1 piece.

A sigh escaped his lips when he flexed his fingers; the melody he was playing was melancholic. There was a distant longing that was intangible. His fingers trapezes on the strings with mechanical precision yet… yet… this kind of play was not acceptable. He has the technique ingrained to his mind but he was interpreting the music in his terms. He placed his emotions into the piece.

_This was not how the composer sees the piece! Stop putting unnecessary additions._

The words of his grandfather unconsciously echoed on his mind. Without any hesitation, he stopped playing. The abrupt end caused Lovino’s ears to hear only a deafening silence. There was not a single background noise; not even the rustling of leaves or the occasional passing vehicle.

When the noise finally returned, Lovino’s eyes dilated. There was some _random bastard_ listening to him. His cheeks reddened; perhaps out of embarrassment or something else. Either way, Lovino was irked because he was caught off-guard. His knee-jerk reaction was lashing out which he did.

“Who the hell are you?!”

                He spoke venomously towards the stranger.

                “ _Hey now, there is no need to be rude brat. I just chanced by this place. You’re playing was quite beautiful, I dare say._ ”

                Lovino was speechless. He knew a little bit of conversational English and the last part of the stranger’s statement made his heart skip a beat.

                _He’s just a common person. What does he know about music anyway? You’re an idiot Lovino Vargas if you get happy with this nobody’s compliment._

                “ _Yeah, whatever._ ”

                Lovino smirked and replied in English. This tourist should take it as a cue to leave but instead the blond stranger stayed put and intently watched the brunet. This made Lovino uncomfortable so he proceeded with returning his violin into its case. Immediately, he dashed towards his bicycle and pedaled as fast as he could as if his life depended on it.

                At a distance, he could hear the other person yelling,

                “ **Hey, at least tell me your name!”**

                The stranger was speaking in Italian. It was a bit choppy and horrible ( _tourists should just speak their own damn language,_ Lovino thought) but understandable nonetheless.

                However the hazel-eyed youth did not turn around to give a reply.

                The following day, when Lovino returned to the place, it was empty. He slightly regrets that he didn’t talk with the stranger further. Just a little bit; it has been too long since he had an audience and he needed an input about his playing.

                Although he left the oppressive atmosphere of his home, the violin is an extension of his life. He could not bring himself to stop playing the instrument. Lovino takes care of the instrument and his fingers which were the mediator of producing music.

                _Music… his life revolved around music._

                Lovino could not explain it well; but in a nutshell, his feelings were scrambled. The complexity of his way of thinking always brought him inner turmoil but he always dismisses it, them.

                _I guess the bastard won’t be coming today._

                Lovino looked at his watch; he only had an hour left before he would head to his next part-time job. Since he was already here, the violinist opted for a short piece which is Joplin’s _The Entertainer_. The upbeat music helped him sober up. He needed a clear mind while working at _Napoli Fiore_ because in that the bar, usually, anything goes.

                The worst that Lovino experienced was an all-out fight. One party even pulled out a .45 caliber pistol and the entire place was in chaos. He heard from a co-worker that the police eventually intervened. It was a good thing that Lovino was able to slip-out before then. He had an unusual aversion towards any law enforcement agency. Maybe he was afraid of being discovered. Something like that?

                Lovino scolded himself internally. His thoughts were dampening him again. Anyhow, he prays that the night will be uneventful like the usual shifts he had. However what he wished for was unanswered. By the end of his shift, after some bartending performance and several tips, someone walked to Lovino.

                The brunet was removing the chains and lock of his bike when a beautiful woman lightly touched his shoulder.

                “Lovino, your performance was great.”

                “Elizabeta… hi.” Lovino tried to hide the blush on his face. Elizabeta’s criticisms towards his performance usually centered on _Lovino’s second-rate ability_ but the positive comment made him blush. It was unexpected. “Yeah, sure, thanks.” Lovino tried to cover his face by pretending to check the brakes of his bike.

                “Do come visit us sometime. I would love to have you over the holidays.” The woman smiled and kissed the cheeks of the brunet.

                Lovino only gave a weak nod as a reply and he was happy when he was left alone.

                However the events that transpired afterwards changed his disposition to distress. The short exchange was apparently seen by the blond stranger that Lovino met yesterday.

                Said stranger was very drunk because when the tourist leaned on the Italian, Lovino could smell liquor from the _bastard’s mouth_. It was very unpleasant.

                “What the fuck! Are you some stalker?”

                “Huh? Oh, it’s you! The violinist!”

                “Shh!”

                Lovino covered the mouth of this talkative drunk. He didn’t want anyone knowing his skills as a violinist. It would only bring annoyances into his life.

The brunet positioned the drunkard in such a way that both of them could at least move forward.

                “You’re so friendly with that woman but you brush me off. What a sod!”

                “You’re fucking drunk. Do you have a companion?” Lovino was not exactly in the mood to have an argumentative contest.

                “My daft of a cousin wanted me to accompany him. That idiot is somewhere.”

                Hazel eyes reflected pity to the man; the distress still remained but it slightly subsided. Finding the cousin of the drunkard was very easy. The said cousin was moving his head sideways too many times, as if looking for someone. There was another person beside **cousin A** whom Lovino labeled **cousin B**. The three of them had a short talk and cousin B was very polite and apologized endlessly. Cousin A on the other hand was talking about _how cool the place was and he would totally return the next time they visit Rome_. Patching the drunkard, cousin A and B’s personalities together, it was difficult for Lovino to think that these tourists were related. Though, physically, they almost resembled one another.

                It mattered little to Lovino what they were saying and who they really were. Tourists come and go here in Rome. Yet at the idea that the drunkard leaving made his chest tightened a little.  Just a little; maybe he just ate too much, he quietly reasoned out. They then parted ways; for the first time in a long time he felt drained. All the strength in his body left the moment his head touched the pillow.

 

**.**

**.**

**.**

               

**The sounds of breaking bones filled the tiny abode.**

One after the other, the fingers was placed in an odd angle.

Despite the pain of dislocating his own digits, Lovino did not scream. His upper teeth sunk deeply, almost tearing the lip away. Tears rolled down from his eyes; the lower lip which he was biting was profusely bleeding. His toes were curling and he could feel the muscles of his legs tense. He was already seeing white spots dancing through the air.

_Dear God. I know I have sinned. I have sinned because I loved another man… but… but… please don’t take him away from me._

 

**.**

**.**

**.**

 

Lovino closed his case with a sigh. Two days after the drinking incident, he no longer saw the eyebrow-bastard. The bushy eyebrows of that blond _cazzo_ definitely stood out. Since Lovino didn’t have an idea of what his name was, eyebrow-bastard suits the stranger.

Today was one of the rare days that his weekday jobs have the same day-off. The weather was very fine and the Italian didn’t bring with him his bike. Instead, he was walking through the pavements from of one street to the next. He stopped when he passed by a cathedral. He made the sign of the cross and entered the church. At the entrance was dedicated to lighting candles; Lovino dropped several coins and lit candles.

He prayed; though he didn’t know what exactly he was praying for. He prayed for… for…

Instead of saying his own prayers, he started to mentally recite the canonical prayers issued by the Roman Catholic Church. He prayed to the Mother Mary, Jesus Christ, and the saints.

Once he was done, outside the ancient infrastructure, eyebrow-bastard was staring at him wide-eyed.

“ _Idiot, come with me._ ”

Lovino grabbed the hand of the blond man and led him away. The Italian’s face was blushing fervently; he was doing something very bold. Lovino stopped his tracks when they were in front of a small café. Slowly he let go of the other man’s wrist and entered the store. Eyebrow-bastard also followed behind him and when they sat at the corner booth, neither looked at each other’s eyes.

It was quite awkward.

Both of them have only been bickering since they met. The peaceful environment added more to the awkwardness.

“So… what are we supposed to be talking about?”

Lovino’s throat tightened when he was asked by the question. All that liveliness they had before dispersed.

“Well, just so you know… whatever I said when I was drunk… I apologize. I’m terrible with holding my liquor. I heard from Mathieu about some Italian helping me. I vaguely remember talking to you before returning to my cousins. So I’m guessing it was you.”

At that moment, Lovino laughed, just a little bit.

“Hey now, don’t be a prick. I was drunk. That was all. People do stupid things when they are drunk.”

“Yeah, yeah. You really are an idiot after all.”

The tension earlier has changed into a friendly atmosphere. Conversation between the two of them became easier. Lovino learned the bastard’s name, which was Arthur Kirkland, and also the reason of his visit here in Rome. The cousins were supposed to have some quality time before Alfred and Mathieu (formerly named cousin A and B by Lovino) would be enlisting for the military.

“I have been talking about myself, so what’s your story?”

“I’m just another citizen of Rome. There’s not much to tell. I live by myself at some shady part of the city.”

“I don’t think that’s all.”

Lovino was slightly taken aback by the statement. The green eyes looking directly to his hazel ones were prying; searching them for the whole truth. However he was not going to tell some random idiot about his life story. He didn’t need anyone’s pity.

“You look like one of those high society lads, running away from home.”

“Are you on some psycho shit?”

“Minus your language, you would definitely pass as someone from the upper class.”

“Are you even listening to what you are saying?”

“Well, maybe you just happen to be good looking.”

…

The shock from earlier was upgraded to a higher degree. Lovino has heard that he was good looking, handsome, all the associated synonyms before but hearing it from Arthur’s mouth gave a different feeling inside him. It was weird.

By the time the waitress gave them their orders, both men’s cheeks were tinged red. It was a good thing that the young lady didn’t linger long.

“That was graceless of me.”

“I think that you’re on some weird drugs.”

“I am definitely not! Just so you know, I have been clean for more than five years.”

This was something new. Lovino never pegged the blond tourist as a junkie. He looked like one of those preppy fraternity boys who will always be at the top of the class.

“We all have our demons.” Lovino quietly said.

“Yes, yes we do. Let’s eat now before the food gets cold.”

The conversations afterwards were limited to mundane topics. Lovino talked about his part-time jobs while Arthur talked about his job as a museum curator as well as a librarian.

“Maybe you were just projecting that high society shit on me. As a matter of fact, you are the one from the upper-class.”

“Just for your information, I am from the working class.”

Around mid-afternoon, both men parted ways.

“It was nice meeting you Lovino.”

“Sure Kirkland.”

 

 

**.**

**.**

**.**

 

Arthur Kirkland was elated by the time he reached the hotel room he was staying at for the moment. His cousins have returned to North America yesterday which meant that he wouldn’t have to be anyone’s chaperone for the rest of his stay in Rome. It was a very refreshing idea.

 _The past week was cumbersome_ , Arthur think begrudgingly.

Out of the blue, Alfred contacted his mother and _wanted Mrs. Kirkland to persuade Arthur in accompanying them_. The Englishman practically had no choice in the matter; he took a week’s worth of unpaid leave. Luckily the HR didn’t give him a hard time. The request was granted immediately; though he would have wished otherwise. Arthur had a sneaking idea that the company would be happier if he was laid off because of his… _salary_ which was crunching numbers in the operating costs. The Brit shrugged off the thought. It was unfounded.

Anyhow, what is done is done.

There was no use mulling over events that have passed.

What made the trip to Rome _bearable_ was his coincidental meeting with a certain violinist… who was also a bartender?  It was… to say the least, weird. This wasn’t the era of gypsies wherein people travel around with their instruments. Arthur noted that the young chap named Lovino was someone from high society or maybe involved with members of the elite. The name sounded foreign to him; it was a peculiar name. However, memory bells were ringing in his mind.

 _I will remember it… maybe later,_ Arthur quietly told the reflection on the mirror.

He could not believe that he was a drug addict, a junkie, five years ago. He overdosed twice and his parents were considering on giving him up.

Somehow he pulled himself out of the situation.

Those years of his life were quite blurry. He would rather that those years of his life be erased. That would be very much appreciated.

The young man’s thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. It was a very unusual; no one knew where he was staying… except for!

“ _Hello? Kirkland? You idiot, you left your wallet on the table---_ ”

The baritone voice made Arthur’s heartbeat go fast. His mind did not comprehend a single word that was being spoken to him. His knees felt weak; and he berated himself at how much he was acting like a teenage girl.

“Huh?”

“ _Dio mio! Anyhow, I’m coming over to your hotel…_ ”

At that the line went dead. All the events were swirling too fast for the young man and his heart could no longer beat to the usual rhythm. His breathing was ragged and his palms were starting to sweat. What he was experiencing was similar to a panic attack. Arthur backtracks his thinking. To begin with, there was no threat which meant that he didn’t have any reason to panic. Yet he was.

He was experiencing these volatile emotions that only Lovino could stir.

For the first time in a long time, he was unsure of what to think about his situation.

**.**

**.**

**.**

_Don’t ever come near my boy again!_

_I will call the police if I see you anywhere near the hospital._

Lovino’s routine has changed drastically. He no longer worked; he didn’t eat; he didn’t play his violin, the instrument lay somewhere in the house, collecting dust. His routine compromised of crying, sleeping, going to the bathroom and it became a vicious cycle. Before he ran out of wine and liquor, drinking was inserted in between those three.

If someone enters the house, no one would believe that Lovino Vargas was a man born with prestige. The place only looked like a gutter.

**.**

**.**

**.**

“Idiot! You left your fucking wallet. It was a good thing that I remembered where you damn live.”

“Uh, thank you. I am really grateful.”

“Sure, sure. Here take it. I need to get going. I’m going to be late.”

“For work?”

“S-something like that.”

Lovino worded his reply vaguely before leaving the vicinity.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Wherein Arthur was left confused at the reply. He might be reading too much into the situation; judging from their previous conversations, Lovino was more direct with his statements. He decided to shrug it off and let the other person be. They were not even friends; they were just acquaintances until just recently.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Lovino could no longer differentiate between night and day. His muscles were weakening due to the lack of proper nutrition. He felt helpless; if only he had not brought Arthur there, then what happened would have been prevented.

This was crueler than the time when his grandfather removed him from the family’s registrar record.

His chest was aching badly; he wanted to stop feeling the pain.

There was only one way to stop it and to the God he used to believe in, he was thankful that he lived in the fourth floor of the apartment complex.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Almost two weeks have passed since Lovino and Arthur met. Occasionally, the two of them would share a meal together. It was time for Arthur to return to his job; before the Briton was leaving, Lovino requested that the two of them meet at a cathedral. The blond was skeptic because he wasn’t a Catholic or a religious person. However the Italian assured him that they were only meeting outside since it was the most conspicuous landmark. Another reason for his apprehension was that he might be delayed for his flight.

“You are so infuriating!” Lovino yelled and Arthur could not comprehend a single word the brunet spoke afterwards. He guessed that those were Italian cusses.

“Fine git, I’ll go with you. You sound like a clingy lover.”

“No, I do not. Anyway, just meet me at the front of the church.”

When the day arrived, Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. Unlike the casual wear that Lovino usually had, he was in semi-formal attire today. Anyone who saw the young man would definitely turn their heads. There was an added charm with the white flowers that were being carried by his one hand while his violin on the other.

“Thanks for coming Arthur. Here, please hold these.”

Arthur could hear his heart drumming loudly. He had never felt this way before.

“I need to light some candles first. I’ll be back soon.”

The Brit nodded and took a deep breath once he saw the brunet enter the sacred place. The flowers looked unfamiliar to him. On closer inspection, the color of the petals reminded of him of the snow.

Sometimes his inner poet wanted to romanticize everything he saw. Well, it was irrelevant.

Rather, the more important matter was whether or not the flowers were his to keep or if he was just holding them until Lovino returns. Arthur was always baffled with the personality of Lovino Vargas. The other man was mysterious; he was loud and vulgar yet he could be calm and caring.

“Let’s get to the bus stop. I don’t want you missing your flight and blaming me for the extended stay.” The Italian smirked.

“You-! You just came from a church and you act like some…”

“Devil? Well, whatever. Anyway, really thank you for coming with me…”

Once again, Arthur was baffled; he was at a loss for words after Lovino trailed off with his statement. He unconsciously gripped the flowers’ stem to hard.

**.**

**.**

**.**

The following moments felt like scene from a movie wherein the protagonist tries to protect his loved on. Slowly his life flashes through his eyes as if it was the end.

A few minutes before the disastrous encounter, Lovino and Arthur were visiting the mausoleum of the deceased parents of the violinist. There, Lovino slowly told Arthur about his predicament: the death of his parents in middle school; him leaving the house after graduation with only a rucksack on his back; and the most recent, the disowning of his grandfather.

Even if it sounded so cliché and straight out of some novel, Lovino really did feel a weight being lifted off him after he talked. Arthur did not interrupt him and just listened. The very act alone was enough to make him feel happy.

“Basically my life is like one of those daytime soap operas…” Lovino tried to pass it off as a joke but his voice was quivering. Not long, the tears began to fall from his eyes.

“This is so embarrassing. Turn the other way Arthur. _Dio mio_!”

Lovino was shocked with what happened next. Arthur hugged him and whispered, “Idiot, it’s normal to cry. Besides, where I am right now, I can’t see your crying face.”

After he composed himself, he played one song. It was the violin solo for _La Campanella_. Lovino was slightly nervous that he had a _listening audience_ for the first time in a long time.

“That was brilliant!” Lovino heard the awed voice of Arthur once he played the last note of the piece.

“Not really. An 11 year-old can play the song.”

“You’re just shy.” Lovino just watched Arthur chuckling.

The Italian scowled and decided that it was time to leave. He didn’t want Arthur to be late for his flight back to London and be the reason for the delay.

However, instead of being the reason for something as mundane as flight delay, Lovino became the reason that Mr. and Mrs. Kirkland forbidding their son to travel alone. It might be overreacting but the parents of the Brit have forbidden Lovino’s presence around Arthur.

Just seconds after the duo left the cemetery and were heading for the bus stop when a mugger silently approached them and pierced a knife through Arthur’s back, hitting one of his kidneys. Lovino was in a state of shock and it took time to sink in that his _friend_ was just stabbed by some random hoodlum.

He was fumbling with his mobile phone when he called for an ambulance and his shock became worse when the ambulance wheeled Arthur off to the hospital. Lovino didn’t mind in spending extra money for a taxi ride to the hospital. He needed to get to where Arthur was ASAP.

The next moments were a blur to him. He remembered that the Kirkland parents were yelling off at him and then Mr. Kirkland strongly forbids him from ever seeing Arthur.

And that was it.

From that moment on, Lovino Vargas never had any contact with Arthur Kirkland.

During the first days, it was mind-numbing. He stopped appearing to his jobs. Not long after, mails of termination were slipped to his door. Then he began a drinking and smoking habit. By the time his money was all spent, he just laid down on the floor of his rented space. There was no semblance that the place had a living soul.

Lovino accepted that he was indirectly the cause of his friend’s predicament. That was why it always haunts him and as much as he hated the Kirkland parents, they made sense. Parents always went to extreme lengths to protect their children.

Parents were parents…

**.**

**.**

**.**

Francis Bonnefoy was a distant relative of the family. Even so, he always kept in touch and he was in good relations to the Vargas patriarch. This was mainly because they were also business associates.

Despite his young age, he was already running his own company.

He spent some years of Christmas and New Year with the Vargas family and he was particularly fond of the eldest child, Lovino. Feliciano, the younger brother was cute in his own way, but Lovino always fascinated him. The older brother was fiery and always spoke his mind. Watching the various outbursts was an entertainment for Francis. If he did reveal this, he was sure to receive an earful of curses from Lovino.

The Frenchman laughed at the memories playing back.

Currently, he was just idling in his patio. His blue eyes watched with adoration the vast field stretching in front. Although he was not the man who made the business prosper, he was proud of his achievement in resuscitating back the business when it was on the brink of collapse.

The young man’s reverie was broken when his mobile phone’s ringtone loudly sounded.

“Hello?”

“ _Big brother Francis, this is Feliciano… I heard that you would be visiting Rome next weekend._ ”

“Ah, well, yes I am dear. Do you want to me to bring some gifts?”

“ _No, no. I was just hoping if well, you could visit Lovino? I think Fratello would be happy to see you._ ”

Francis smiled at the statement. “Oh, yes, that would be nice. It’s been quite long since I saw Lovino. Can you mail me his address?”

“ _Okay! See you soon._ ”

A few minutes later, Francis felt bothered by the sudden call. It was unusual for Feliciano to call him out of the blue.

_Perhaps he just wanted someone to talk to?_

The last time he visited the family was a year ago and it seemed that Grandpa Vargas was still at odds with Lovino. He even overheard a conversation between the old man and Feliciano about threatening to cut-off Lovino if the young man continued to be obstinate.

He was not supposed to hear that part but the two Vargas men were not exactly talking discreetly.

Regardless, acting on the suspicion, Francis decided to take the next flight to Rome without any further ado.

**.**

**.**

**.**

“We’re leaving now Lovino and please try to look a little bit pleased.”

One week ago, Francis discovered Lovino’s half-dead body sprawled on the floor. According to the doctor attending to the Italian, if he was discovered later, Lovino would have died of dehydration. To make matters worse, Lovino’s body is severely malnourished after several days of lack in food intake.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. No one is asking you to take care of me Fancy-pants.”

Francis was delighted that Lovino’s sharp-tongue was back. However when he looks away, he would often notice that the younger man would just zone into space.

“You know that heartbroken atmosphere you have, will only attract more lovers.”

“Wh-What are you talking about?!”

“My love radar says that all of this happened because of some young person breaking your virgin heart. The first heart break is definitely painful but there’s no need to mull over it. You are still young and you will still meet plenty of other people. Just pray and you will definitely meet your destined person.”

 

 


End file.
